The Yearning

DSCF1119_2Only those whose heart is not yet blown
Have anything to fear from Winter.

Do the trees clutch at their leaves
When the wind blows through?

This longing
It is the only thing of worth
This lack
A treasure house

It is here
In this Ache, this Absence
Where the True Lover shows his face.

About subincontinentia

writer and eternal optimist
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